


A Quiet Cup of Tea

by Littlegirlgeek



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post Trigon arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 16:13:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Littlegirlgeek/pseuds/Littlegirlgeek
Summary: On bad days, there was always tea.Raven rarely made it herself. Some days she didn’t even think about it until she reached the common room. But it was always there, hot and ready, sitting on the kitchen counter with the bag out on a saucer.





	A Quiet Cup of Tea

On bad days, there was always tea.

Raven rarely made it herself. Some days she didn’t even think about it until she reached the common room. But it was always there, hot and ready, sitting on the kitchen counter with the bag out on a saucer. 

The first time, she had woken up in a panic. Night terrors weren’t uncommon- even when she woke up with a shout, sweating and shaking, she was still satisfied as long as she hadn’t destroyed the room in her sleep. This was one of those times-- nothing shattered, except for whatever peace she had hoped to wake up to. With no love to be found in her room, she wrapped up in her cape and ventured out into the tower.

It was early, barely 6 am. The sun wasn’t even peeking over the horizon yet. Asleep like everyone else, she thought. She didn’t mind the dark, and left the lights off as she wandered the halls in silence.

Muscle memory brought her to the commons. The door hummed open and she stepped into the cooler conditioned air with a deep breath. To her surprise, her nose found chamomile. She followed the smell to the culprit immediately.

It was in a coffee mug, with the bag still in, darkening the water until it was almost black. But the water steamed, so she knew it was fresh. A brand new cup, sitting on the kitchen counter in the dark, at 6 in the morning.

There was only one other Titan who dared to be awake at this hour. And he didn’t drink tea.

She picked up the mug carefully in both hands, as if it might bite her. She brought it to her nose and breathed in the scent, letting it wash away her lingering tension. She was surprised again by the warmth that replaced it: her team leader somewhere in the tower, not waiting around for praise- probably wanting to grant her some peace in the small hours of the morning. She took a grateful sip of the tea-

And promptly scrunched her nose up as she swallowed the poison. It was dreadfully strong. She pulled the tea bag out and dropped it in the trash. For someone who never made tea, she considered, it was a great first effort. And one she appreciated immensely.

She watered down the tea and took it with her to the roof where she sat and meditated as the sun rose.

 

Since then, it had been much the same. A few times a week at first, always on rough mornings. Then every day. The tea, much to her satisfaction, did improve in taste and form. He seemed to be learning as he went, she thought, and wondered when he realized he was making it too strong, that he should be making less, using a teacup, leaving the bag in case she wanted to make a second cup. There was always her tea, but never the teamaker.

The first few cups she had thought were maybe just convenience. Robin of all people knew how hard it was for her to sleep. And it probably wasn’t out of his way when he made his breakfast (a piece of toast and a protein shake) before heading down to what Cyborg lovingly called ‘the Bird Cave’. 

On the third week of daily tea, however, Raven began to wonder if he was doing too much.

It quickly became into her favorite part of her routine. If he knew how much it meant to her, he never indicated as such. So she continued collecting it every morning and taking it with her to meditate.

Robin never mentioned it, and she never brought it up. When he came back to the commons for lunch, he didn’t make a show or ask about it, or indicate that anything was different. He would just pick up her empty teacup if she hadn’t already and take it to the sink with his own dishes.

Things proceeded as (almost) normal.

 

A month into the routine, after a particularly rough night, Raven didn’t go down for her morning tea.

She couldn’t, she reasoned, distracted by the tightness in her chest and her shuddering breaths. During the night she had managed to rock herself into the floor and had yet to make it back into bed. She waged a constant war in her heart and it took its toll. Trigon may have been contained, but he was by no means gone. Some nights he insisted on knocking on the door of her mind, making sure she didn’t forget. Making sure she never grew complacent.

Raven thought of that lonely cup of tea waiting on the counter and tried to take a deep breath to convince her body to loosen. She was wound tight, arms aching from adrenaline, eyes squeezed shut as she forced down the nausea. 

‘It’s okay,’ she told herself, ‘You’re still in control, he can’t hurt you or anyone else. He’s trapped. You trapped him.’

A groan slipped past her lips and she pulled her knees up to her chest. The room was as dark as her thoughts, and she thought for sure the walls would start melting under the sheer weight of emotion she was radiating. She just needed to calm down. Just another hour or two and she might be able to calm down. 

A knock on her door pulled her concentration. Her attention split- the vanity mirror burst with a shattering pop. She gave a start and called instinctively, “Go away!”

“Are you okay? Raven?”

Her heart clenched and she had to fight for oxygen. She took a deep breath and tried to sit up, but the movement sent her head spinning anew and she curled forward to duck her head between her knees. 

“Please go away,” she chanced again, her fear overruling her regret.

It was quiet for a moment, and she managed to turn her focus back to her breathing until she heard a door code being punched in. Override codes, she realized through a haze. A wave of fear hit her like the whole ocean rising above her head, and she curled up tighter around her knees, pressing her back against the bed just to feel grounded. She heard the door hiss open and waited for an exaggerated gasp, her name called in a panic, someone she needed to reassure on top of her own screaming bones.

It was quiet. The door hummed shut. Soft footfalls came closer, rounding the foot of the bed carefully. Robin knelt down in front of her, hair wet and fresh from the shower, mask already back over his eyes. She managed to look up long enough to see the worried crease in his brow. His hands were up as if to touch her, but he kept an inch of air between them. She realized she probably looked as fragile as she felt.

She was too exhausted to fight, and too panicked to look at him. She closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against her arms and breathing into the space between her knees and her chest. A surge of energy sent a book flying off the dresser. It slammed into the opposite wall.

“Raven.”

His voice was calm, but laced with a sorrow she recognized like her own. A glove-free hand made contact with her skin- he pressed his palm gently against her shoulder and she couldn’t resist a sigh. There was an ease to his touch that she never wanted to admit. Still, she owed him something. Fighting against the terror, she tried to speak.

“Robi-”

She flinched as the bulbs in her lamps exploded. Robin hushed her immediately, gently, and his thumb brushed her skin comfortingly, drawing little circles on her arm. She could feel the air move when he shifted so he was sitting, his other leg propped up outside of hers, creating a warm wall. His hand moved up as if answering a call, guiding up the crook between her shoulder and her neck. Every inch of skin he brushed seemed to cool in his wake. She found herself pressing into the touch, her breath evening out, her heart steadying. As his palm met her cheek, her headache dulled and she leaned into it. Her body was screaming, burning, bleeding, and she focused in on his hands as his free one came up to find her, to cup her other cheek and press back into her hair, threading through it like water between his fingers. When she opened her eyes he was still watching her, but the crease in his brow had given away to something else. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He was calm. Almost serene. She could feel his hands shaking, but he didn’t let the fear reach his face. Ever the stoic leader.

“Rae,” he said, softer. 

It tore her open. She took a shuddering breath, trying one last time to fight back tears- and lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and letting his encompass her. She let her whole weight fall on him and he scooted forward to surround her, to pull her in and hold her upright with his legs and totally surround her with safety and limbs. 

The room erupted. Every book she had jumped off its shelf and thundered around the room in a windstorm of energy. 

She breathed in-- shampoo and soap and fear and chamomile. Every change in Robin’s embrace sent a new shock of terror and comfort through her: his arms tightening, his hand in her hair, his cheek shifting against her ear. She could feel every impact of energy as objects pelted him on their wild blitz around the room, but he seemed unfazed. He leaned back just enough to press his mouth against the crown her for head. Here in the dark, in her bedroom, as energy and destiny and fate rampaged through her body she was completely torn between fear and security. 

She had never known what it was like to see a hand reaching into the dark after her. Not before Robin.

Robin said nothing else, and stayed in the floor with her for Gods know how long. After what could have been minutes or possibly hours, the room stilled around them. By the time she shook off the weight of fear and began to come to her senses, she could hear birds outside the tower. In the distance a door opened and closed. She was beginning to hone in on the world around her again. Including Robin’s breath against her neck, where he had settled into the crook between her jaw and shoulder.

A crisp chill ran up her spine, and she squeezed where her hands rested on his back and neck. He stirred and pulled back. It was cold outside of his embrace. His hair had dried without it’s usual perky spike, and hung over his face in a lazy droop.

He began to pull away, and she was surprised to find herself clinging to his arms. He stopped pulling immediately and searched her face again. She had no idea what to tell him, but she didn’t need to. His serious expression softened and he pulled her up with him, keeping her close against him as he stood. It felt silly, letting Robin pull her along like a child, but standing up had made her dizzy enough that she didn’t lose any pride.

She was weak from the panic and before she really noticed he had ushered her back into bed. She was asleep before he finished pulling up the covers.

Sometime before noon, she woke up to a fresh cup of tea on her nightstand.

 

Raven kept ahold of the tea cup all day, hot and then warm and then empty and cold in her hands. She would gingerly run a finger along the lip of the cup, admiring the simple glaze on the white porcelain. She never left her bed, staying under the covers the way she often did after a long and tiring night, letting her legs ache and her muscles twitch as she fought to forget the pain. It was a common pastime for her.

This time, though, there was something new on her mind.

After a second nap and another hour of staring at the empty tea cup, she couldn’t ignore her growling stomach any longer. She secured the clasp on her cloak, carefully picked up the teacup, and took a deep breath before exiting her bedroom.

It was past midnight.The lights were off and the tower was quiet. Starfire didn’t need to sleep as much as humans but she often turned in early for the novelty of it. Raven wouldn’t be surprised to find Beast Boy and Cyborg up playing video games, but as she got closer to the commons, she could only hear voices. Her heart squeezed, teetering on the edge of unwilling to face anyone, but she swallowed her fear and stepped up to the door. It whizzed open in front of her.

Cyborg and Robin were having a quiet conversation in the kitchen nook. Robin was sitting up on the counter and Cyborg leaned against the counter beside him, counseling him and looking quietly amused. When the door opened the two looked up. Robin raised a casual hand in greeting, not breaking stride in his conversation.

She was grateful for his casual attitude, and Cyborg’s nod and warm smile told her that her secret was still safe. She opted to walk instead of hover (she had spent enough energy the night before) over to where they were. Robin’s eyes dropped to the tea cup in her hands. He twisted on the counter, reaching for an empty teapot. 

“We’ll pick this up with Beast Boy tomorrow. If you need anything else, you know where to find me,” he wrapped up. Raven shuffled out of the way when he hopped down off the counter and took the teapot to the fridge. 

“I sure do,” Cyborg replied, raising an eyebrow in Raven’s direction. He laid a friendly hand on her shoulder as he passed her, raising the hand to wave behind him on his way out. “Night, y’all.”

The door whizzed shut behind him and the two birds were plunged into silence. Robin fished a water purifier out of the mini fridge and poured carefully into the pot.

She thought about interrupting, but instead Raven watched and waited. Robin milled around the kitchen without urgency, placing the now full pot on the burner and turning it on. To her surprise, the next thing he fished out was a jar of loose tea and a box of empty tea bags. She had assumed it was store-bought, already wrapped-- something straightforward. Robin was surprisingly delicate as he fished curled and crumbled leaves out of the jar and dropped them into a bag. Suddenly aware of herself staring, Raven extricated herself from the kitchen and instead settled in on the couch while she waited.

It took a couple of minutes for the pot to begin hissing. Robin came around to the coffee table, laid a tea bag in her original teacup, and poured the steaming water over it. She didn’t realize she had made a noise of thanks until Robin smiled. 

“I never realized how soothing even just making tea could be,” he said. He poured a second cup and set the teapot further back on the table before sitting down next to her, a respectful gap between their knees. “It’s kind of its own art form, isn’t it?”

Raven nodded, taking the tea and enjoying the warmth in her hands. She leaned forward and took a deep breath, surprised at the scent that hit her nose. Her eyes widened and she tossed him a glance. “Sleepytime tea?”

Robin laughed. “Sharp nose.”

“Valerian is surprisingly fragrant. And spearmint gives the chamomile a real kick,” Raven replied. She quirked an eyebrow and couldn’t hide a smirk. “You’ve done your research.”

Robin lifted his own teacup with a grin. He mirrored Raven, holding it between his hands and hovering over it to take in the scent. Raven watched with quiet appreciation, and winced at the purple bruise peeking out from under his mask. As if he felt her watching, he shrugged.

“It’s fine,” he responded her unspoken question. “Doesn’t even hurt.” 

She scoffed and reached for the bruise. “Yeah, it looks like it tickles,” she droned. She could afford to expend energy on healing a bruise she caused. Her hand glowed for a moment and a dim light obscured the blemish before it faded back to a pale pink. Robin kept his eyes on his teacup while she worked.

She hesitated, centimeters from his skin, and was surprised when his fingers curled gently around her delicate wrist. Raven swallowed, entranced by his eyes when they swung to her. He looked so sure of himself. Like taking her hand was the same as picking up his tea. She finally pulled her gaze away, cursing her own cowardice as she looked at the space of couch between them.

“Thanks for letting me in.”

She blinked at him. He was smiling. She felt her cheeks heat and she coughed, trying to ignore his thumb brushing her palm. It sent shooting tingles down her wrist. She relaxed her hand.

“You let yourself in,” Raven pointed out. “With a door code.”

Robin snorted. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

Their eyes met. If they hadn’t been bonded, Raven never would have known what piercing blue eyes were hidden under his mask. She could see him in her mind underneath it all- the boy behind the bird- and she knew that he could see her, too. She had let him in and it had changed everything. It was more than she had ever offered to anyone.

And he knew.

He could feel it too.

It was overwhelming to acknowledge. In the moment she couldn’t help but ghost her knuckles from his temple down to his cheek. His eyes fluttered at the touch and his look sobered, but he never broke her gaze. For a moment she was floating, a flutter in her stomach and the aroma of tea filling her senses.

“I... “ She didn’t need to over complicate it. He wouldn’t push her one way or the other. He would be happy with anything she gave him. That alone gave her the peace she needed to simplify. She smiled and dropped her hand to his chest, pressing gently over his heart.

“Thank you. Dick.”

She felt his pulse jump under her palm at his name. She had never used it before. It had been an unspoken truth between them, after her time in his mind those years before. There had never been a reason for her to use his real name.

From the way his breath caught, she knew he got the message.

Satisfied, Raven took a breath and withdrew her hand, returning it to her tea cup. She enjoyed another whiff of the tea, eyes closed, before taking a long sip. Beside her, Robin soon followed suit.

To her right on the couch, Robin smacked his lips and mumbled:

“Yeuck. I’ve still got a ways to go on my tea brewing, huh?”

Raven couldn’t resist a bark of laughter, careful not to spill her tea.

It was just what she needed.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came to mind and really fueled something in me. It was a lot of fun to stretch my legs with characters I love but hadn't written for yet.
> 
> It's been a fun little one-shot, but I might have a sequel in mind now. If I get carried away, we might get a follow up, but for now, thanks for reading. <3
> 
> Cheers <3
> 
> -Geek.


End file.
